


I've found you at last

by emmaofmisthaven



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post Season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 19:24:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10837800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmaofmisthaven/pseuds/emmaofmisthaven
Summary: A hand is holding his, familiar enough that he doesn’t need to open his eyes again to know Kala is by his side, tiny little fingers grabbing his with all the strength she doesn’t have. He finds it comforting, the delicate weight of her hand in his, even if she technically isn’t in the room with him. Their telepathic bond is –– is –– not here.





	1. Chapter 1

Wolfie is familiar with pain. Not just because of his father or the other boys at school or his lust for blood. There were a few memorable visits to the hospital with Felix – going down the stairs of an abandoned building in a shopping card, trying to put a lit match on his tongue, doing a cartwheel to impress a girl and breaking his wrist in the process.

Wolfie is familiar with pain, but nothing had prepared him for how broken his body feels – like a truck repeatedly ran him over and bruised all his bones and muscles and sinews in the process. Part of his anatomy he didn’t know exist are hurting. His brain is hurting like a fucking bitch, worse than a hangover, worse than a sleepless night in Berlin’s loudest clubs.

The sound that escapes his lips was meant to be a groan, but probably is more of a whimper, and he blinks against the bright light. A hand is holding his, familiar enough that he doesn’t need to open his eyes again to know Kala is by his side, tiny little fingers grabbing his with all the strength she doesn’t have. He finds it comforting, the delicate weight of her hand in his, even if she technically isn’t in the room with him. Their telepathic bond is –

– is –

– not here.

His brothers and sisters have been in Wolfie’s head long enough now that he recognises them without looking, just by the bond they share. Kala is the one he knows best, and Lito is the one he likes best because the Mexican guy’s bond tugs at him at the worst times and makes him laugh so much and reminds him of Felix in a way that nobody but him would understand. He can recognise Will’s bond pretty easily too, and Nomi’s, or Capheus or Riley or Sun.

Except now he can feel Kala’s tiny hand in his but he can’t feel her bond and something must be very, very wrong with his brain. His brain who hurts even more when he tries to stretch his mind and reach one of his brothers and runs into a mental wall instead. It makes him frown, which triggers a chuckle from a corner of the room and makes him frown even more.

Bracing himself for the worst – Whispers, he’s going to fucking murder Whispers – he blinks against the lights once more, letting his eyes adapt to the sun before he turns his head and his breath catches in his throat and he loses his shit a little. What his brain tells him to be true and what his eyes tell him to be true are in conflict for long seconds, battling until he gives up and his head falls back on the pillow. Soft pillow. Nice pillow. The kind of shit he could never afford, or would never bother afford, or doesn’t really care about, but it’s a nice pillow and.

Rambling thoughts. Focus, Wolfie.

“The fuck?”

“Aaaand he’s back,” Nomi’s voice drawls to his left, the hint of a smile hidden somewhere within the sarcasm.

They’re all here when he opens his eyes again – Kala by his side, Riley sitting at the foot of his bed, Will with a hand on her shoulder, Nomi leaning against a wall with her girlfriend by her side, Sun and Capheus sharing a sofa and Lito sitting on the windowsill.

“Did I pull a Gorski?” he asks to no one in particular, Will replying with an outraged little sound that makes the others laugh. And then his eyes fall on Nomi’s girlfriend again and, “You’re all here?”

Riley nods happily, small ball of Icelandic energy that makes his brain hurt a little just looking at her, before Will starts explaining something. Wolfie understands one in every five words at best, and it must be written all over his face because the cop soon stops talking with a smile and a shrug.

“You’re all here,” he hears himself say again. A lump forms in his throat, but his aching body prevents him from focusing on the meaning of it too much – or perhaps it is his ego, or the fact that he cannot deal with whatever that means. That he purposefully didn’t ask for their help but they came anyway. Twice over now. Mentally and, so it seems, physically. I can’t deal with whatever it means, and so he doesn’t, putting it aside for later. Or never.

“He needs rest,” Kala says, softly, wisely.

He wants to thank her, especially when everybody agrees and leaves the room. Lito clasps his shoulder before he follows his siblings out of the room, a big happy grin on his mouth that Wolfie finds himself mirroring despite himself and despite the way his left cheek hurts. He’s so ridiculously fond of Lito, for some fucking obscure reason.

And then Lito closes the door behind him, and Wolfie’s eyes fall back on Kala’s tiny hand in his, and then up to Kala’s face, and he forgets to breathe a little. Or he breathes harder. Or both. “Hi,” he croaks, sounding more like Felix with a crush than himself.

She smiles, and blushes, and his heart grows three times bigger. “Hi. You scared us.”

He doesn’t have anything to answer to that – should he apologize? – so he shrugs, and then immediately regrets it. Kala’s hand slips away, his fingers flexing uselessly trying to hold her back, before she grabs a glass of water and a bottle of pills. She makes him swallow two and, even if it doesn’t have an instant effect, he finds himself grateful for small kindnesses. For Kala’s kindness.

Who is he kidding.

For Kala’s everything.

He can hear Lito and Capheus bickering over the tv in the other room, and some programme in a language he vaguely recognises, and all the pieces of the puzzles slowly but surely put themselves back in place. “Are we in Paris?”

“Yes.” Kala nods, and then climbs on the bed next to him, sitting by his side with her legs under her. Her clothes look different, now that he thinks about it – she used to wear very little, back when he could feel the Indian sun on his skin clashing with the German rain around him, back when her hair smelled of spices and jasmine. She’s covered in several layers now, sleeves down to her wrists and scarf around her neck. It makes him smile, and makes him want to hug her for warmth, except his body is still protesting against any kind of movement. “Everybody is taking the blockers now, so we should be safe for a while.”

“And then?”

Kala shrugs a little, obviously the kind of conversation he should be having with Will and Nomi instead of her. He doesn’t really want to talk about that anyway. Or to talk at all, tugging on her hand again until she shifts on the bed and comes to lie by his side, careful not to put pressure on any of the many bruises he’s now sporting. Felix would be so proud of his battle scars.

She puts her head on his shoulder, cheek pressed to his collarbone, and Wolfie finds himself breathing easily for the first time in what feels like months. He hadn’t realised he’d been holding his breath for so long, from the moment they sang together in a club and on top of a building and in her bedroom, from the moment his mind decided that she would be his everything.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

She replies with a watery little laugh, his shoulder hot and wet with her tear. Despite the pain, Wolfie forces himself to wrap an arm around her, to hold her to him, and Kala snuggles against his side, her nose pressed to his neck and her hair in his mouth. Wolfie has never felt more content in his life.

He falls asleep, or at least his mind drifts enough for him to rest a little. When he opens his eyes again, the sun is setting and the whole place smells like pizza and Kala is snoring in his ear. Wolfie lets out a small chuckle, and decides that there are worse situations to find yourself in, even beaten and blooded.

There are worse situations than a cluster who saved your life and the girl of your dreams in your arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is less of a multichap and more of a series of oneshot in the same universe. Don't go looking for an overall plot cause there is none.

The papers arrive in a manila folder, hand-delivered by the lawyer Nomi found and Lito hired, a small balding man with a terrible French accent when he speaks English. Kala leads him to the small office, grateful for the Cluster packed as silently as possible in the living room. She doesn’t want to have to explain why she shares an apartment with a dozen other people from all over the world, not when she is about to do something as important as this. Only Riley and Wolfgang are by her side when the lawyer goes through all the papers she needs to read and check and sign, initials and dates she scribbles at the bottom of each page.

It was settled that Rajan would leave her the Parisian apartment if she didn’t ask for anything else, and Kala had too eagerly agreed. Everything else had been done peacefully, through his lawyer and hers, emails sent back and forth halfway across the world during a week or so before the official papers were written, printed, and ready to be sent to a judge.

Hollywood movies Capheus insists on watching had prepared her for more trouble than her divorce turns out to be.

“And a last signature here.” Kala scribbles her name where the lawyer’s finger is, before he takes all the papers from her, puts them into a neat pile, and back in the manila folder. “This is it, Miss Dandekar.”

He says her name wrong, French accent turning the vowel into something else, but Kala feels too numb to correct him. Instead, she shakes his hand and thanks him for his services and gives him the check Lito signed and leads him outside of the apartment. Her hand on the closed door, she stares at her own feet and heaves a sigh, fighting against the tears at the back of her eyes.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” she says to no one in particular as she grabs her jacket and one set of keys.

Nobody stops her, but she can feel a wave of concern following her all the way to the subway, and then to Paris’ only Ganesha temple. She doesn’t have any gifts for her god, but he might forgive her this time. She sits in front of his statue and looks up at him, the words pouring out of her before she even realises she is speaking.

She tells him about the divorce, and her family’s reactions, and how she misses home. She tells him of a good man who deserves a lovely wife who isn’t her, and a not-so-good man who stole her heart along with too many diamonds. She tells him she feels lost and sad at times, she misses her family but has another family of her own in Paris.

She tells him and tells him and tells him until the knots in her stomach ease and she no longer feels ashamed of herself and she realises that it’s been way more than an hour. When she leaves the temple, Sun is waiting outside, cigarette in her mouth and frown on her brows. She looks up when Kala approaches, and follows her in silence to the subway. Kala doesn’t even wonder if it is the real Sun or not, simply relishes in her friend’s presence by her side.

Sun’s silence is soon replaced by the buzzing of the apartment. How many people fit in her apartment, Kala will never understand, but she doesn’t mind all that much – not when they have four bedrooms and two massive sofas to share, not when Lito and Hernando are showing Nomi how to cook the perfect enchiladas, not when Riley is beating Capheus to a video game while sitting on Will’s lap, not when Amanita’s fingers are in Dani’s hair, braiding them into a complex structure, not when some Icelandic song is playing softly in the background.

It was, as it turns out, the real physical version of Sun waiting for her at the temple, and the tiny Korean woman goes to sit next to Dani on the floor. She pretends to be annoyed by the other woman’s constant chattering, but Kala has never seen her more at peace than surrounded by so many people who love her.

Despite the European autumn weather, the air feels stuffy to Kala and she seeks the cool breeze on the balcony. The Eiffel Tower welcomes her – Rajan really went out of his way when he picked the place – and she leans against the railing with a sigh. In an hour she will have to pop another blocker in her mouth, and Will will gather them all to talk about the next step in their plan but, for now, she lets herself enjoy the view, blue and grey rooftops every which way she looks.

“You okay?”

Kala braces herself against the conversation to come, because of course Wolfgang would be there with her on the balcony and of course he would be worried about her. He’s been doing that a lot, worrying, even with the burnt squares of skin on his chest where the paddles had been, even with a yellow bruise fading on his jaw, even with the nightmares keeping him up at night when everybody else is snoring.

She nods and says, “It was the right thing to do.”

She isn’t sure if she says that to him or to herself.

Wolfgang comes next to her, folding his arms against the railing. A cigarette dangles between his fingers, the cheap kind Sun and Riley buy around the corner, and Kala wonders how to ask him to stop, because the smell clings to his clothes and the taste makes his mouth disgusting and she shouldn’t be thinking about kissing him when she just divorced another man. Except he was part of the equation from the start, and it is time for Kala to accept the choices she made and the man her heart chose.

As if attuned to her thoughts, Wolfgang scrubs the tip of his cigarette against the balcony’s railing, then drops it into the nearby ashtray. As if attuned to her thought, he shifts to face her and asks, “Do you need time?”

A silly question if there ever was any, because soon they will be on the move again, soon they will fight for their lives and freedom. Because time is running out the way they are running out of options – fast and maddening, with Nomi’s fingers on a keyboard and Will’s phone to his ear.

So Kala shakes her head and says, “I’m fine,” and even means it this time.

Because she knew a long time ago. She knew the moment Rajan told her about the Parisian flat and running away for her own safety, that she would never go back to India. It was why she had packed all of her favourite clothes, why she had asked her father to grab her university diplomas and find out what it equals to in Europe. It was why she was already thinking of finding a job in Paris before she even reached the airport.

Because Rajan had offered her the key to her freedom on a silver platter, because Rajan had unknowingly given her the life she so desperately craved. Away from him and into Wolfgang’s embrace.

His arms are solid when he wraps them around her, and Kala soon forget the smell of nicotine lingering on his shirt. She closes her eyes and sighs against his neck, to which he replies by tightening his hold on her, as if never willing to let her go again. Even though she cherishes his declaration of love, Wolfgang has never been a man of many words, so Kala doesn’t expect him to resolve to sweet nothings whispered into her ear.

Instead, she focuses on his lips against her temple and his thumb drawing circles on her back. Instead, he holds her tight enough to put all the broken pieces of her heart back together, and runs a hand in her hair.

Instead and later, much later after Will’s speech and Nomi’s latest updates and everyone chiming in, he follows her to her bedroom without a word and holds until she falls asleep. She wakes up in the middle of the night to find him awake and staring at the ceiling, fingers drawing patterns on her bare arm. And when she climbs in his lap and captures his lips into a bruising kiss, she soon forgets about the manila folder and her auntie’s scold and the dangers around them because this, all of this, is what she chose for herself.

She forgets everything but her legs around his hips, and decides that she chose well.


End file.
